


white lines, pretty baby

by kleine_waldfee



Series: dope and diamonds [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug Dealing, Emotional Constipation, Implied Blackmail, Light Domestic Violence, M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Organized Crime, Past Character Death, Power Imbalance, Prostitution, Revenge, Secrets, Treason, Verbal Humiliation, loss of a loved one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22939864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleine_waldfee/pseuds/kleine_waldfee
Summary: Mingi was playing dirty and attempting to distract San so that they wouldn't have to speak about what was really going on. This was a language he was far more comfortable speaking and San knew that. He also knew that verbal communication was easier afterwards.
Relationships: Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Song Mingi, Jeong Yunho/Kang Yeosang
Series: dope and diamonds [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1464502
Comments: 22
Kudos: 59





	white lines, pretty baby

**Author's Note:**

> please take a good look at the tags before you read this!
> 
> title from florida kilos by lana del rey

All eyes turned to him when he stepped onto the shallow stage in front of the tables of the ceremonial hall. Even if San hadn't been utterly and irrevocably in love with Mingi, he would have gotten all his attention with this simple action. His entire demeanor screamed composure and elegance, two characteristics that were emphasized by his fitted anthracite-coloured suit. 

"May I have your attention please," He requested, just the right amount of _sorry to disturb, but not really_ in his voice. His tie was deep red like drying blood and the perfect length, San mused. Obviously. He was the one who had given it to him. His visual estimate was infallible — he knew what looked good on Mingi.

All the guests fell silent, conversations dying out rather quickly. Heads turned to see, some people in the back going so far as to get up from their seats because they didn't want to miss a thing of the concise speech Mingi was about to give.

"First of all, I would like to thank all of you for coming, I'm glad you could make it." Here he made a little pause to ensure that he had everyone's attention. The ballroom was so still that even breathing wrong would attract attention. 

"The place is decorated beautifully, isn't it? As are the people here. We have everything we could ask for: nice clothing, nice food, good jobs. Today, however, we are here to think of those who aren't as fortune as us — children who don't have the same opportunities we had. At the auction that will start in an hour, you will have the opportunity to make a contribution — an opportunity to make this world a better place. I'd like to remind you that all the proceeds of the auction will go to UNICEF. Now, please, I don't plan on keeping you from having fun for too long, so I'll stop right here." His tone had shifted from serious to playful. There were a couple of laughs from the audience. 

"Thank you for your attention. Please enjoy your evening," Mingi concluded and bowed respectfully before he left the stage with a smile on his lips, the applause of the guests accompanying his departure. Some people stole his attention immediately afterwards to make small talk, congratulating him on the charity ball he was hosting and the good deeds he was doing. 

San got up too and was abruptly approached by some business partners. He actually couldn't stand all the excitement surrounding these events, but he was the vice president after all. He was good at dealing with clients and remaining professional, but that didn't mean he enjoyed doing that outside of finalizing trade agreements. Perhaps he should dye his hair back to black again. Without a blonde head he wouldn't be that easily recognizable among the sea of dark haired people. 

Okay, maybe talking to people at these events wasn't that bad, but he was distracted. He wanted to spend time with Mingi, raise a glass or two with him and drink to this nice evening. 

Well, he'd have enough time for that once the auction began, he mused. That thought was making everything more bearable. 

When his conversation partners decided to move on to someone else, San looked around, scanning the crowd for two familiar faces. Mingi was somewhat easy to find, considering that he was taller than most of the other people in the ballroom. He was laughing at something one of the guests had said and the corners of San's mouth lifted automatically. Mingi's laugh was so bright and beautiful, it was contagious and heartwarming. 

San tore his gaze away to look for someone else. It was harder to find Yeosang in the crowd, but he did find him eventually, glued to the side of some guy whose name San did not know and did not care about. He had put on a generous amount of blush high on his cheeks, which made him look ridiculously sweet. 

Satisfied, San turned to take a little bathroom break before anyone could approach him again. When he was done, he left the cubicle he had used and was surprised to see Mingi standing in front of it. He had a smile on his lips and San couldn't help but smile back, walking past him to wash his hands and skillfully hide the blush that had formed on his face. 

"I noticed you looking for me earlier. Is everything alright?" Mingi asked. He was now standing right behind San, putting a hand on his shoulder. San dried his hands on his slacks in lieu of reaching for the paper towels, because that would have meant stepping away from Mingi. 

San turned around to face Mingi and reassured him, "Everything's fine, I just wanted to see you. You were doing great up there, by the way. It's like you were born to stand on a stage and speak to a crowd. They were all hanging on to every word." San looked up at him with adoration shining in his eyes.

"You flatter me," Mingi said teasingly and brushed San's longish hair behind his ear, fingers brushing the dangly earring hanging there. 

"It's true," San murmured dreamily. Every time he was around Mingi it was as if nothing else — nobody else — mattered. In those moments, only Mingi and San existed and the rest of the world stopped moving. Mingi was like a magnet he could not and did not even want to be separated from. San reached out to touch the tie around Mingi's neck, flattening non-existent creases. "This suits you so well." Then, he looked up to meet Mingi's eyes as he added, "This is my favourite colour on you."

Humming, Mingi asked, "Are you flirting with me? What do you want?" The smile on his lips had turned wicked and his eyes were dark with something that never failed to ignite a fire within San. 

"What do you think?" San asked, his voice just a tiny bit more breathless than usually. Nobody else would have noticed a difference, but San knew that Mingi could tell what kind of effect he had on him. 

Before anything more could be said, though, the door opened and some man came in, ignoring the two people who were already in the bathroom. Mingi nodded his head in the direction of the door and San nodded back, both of them heading out to join the crowd of people again. 

Mingi didn't say anything to him, but the hand on San's lower back was enough of a promise. 

*

The bright days were becoming darker after that. San had no idea what type of problem Mingi was dealing with, but it was becoming noticeable. At least to San. When they were at work, Mingi acted as though everything was normal, working like the professional that he was. That mask usually dropped when they were at home, though. The exact second the door slammed shut behind him, his shoulders dropped and his face turned into a grimace of a frown. 

However, San had tried not to think too much of it. After all, everyone had a bad day or a succession of bad days once in a while. He also didn't want to make Mingi feel as if he was pressuring him into telling him what he was struggling with. They might be a couple who worked together, trading in foreign cars and illegal substances, facing a lot of shit side by side, but Mingi was still allowed some space if that's what he needed. 

But then Mingi disappeared one night without bothering to say goodbye or telling San where he was going. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't worry San, but with how Mingi had been acting recently he couldn't help but be concerned. He knew that trying to locate him was useless. He'd just have to wait for him to come back. Maybe then he'd finally let San know what was wrong. 

Waiting for that to happen made San antsy. There was no way he'd be able to sit still until Mingi returned, hopefully safely. Yeosang had come over earlier that evening to hang out and watch a movie on one of his evenings off, but he had fallen asleep on the couch beside San rather quickly. Sighing quietly, San had muted the movie they had chosen to watch, a movie San really hadn't paid any attention to so far, and had draped a blanket over Yeosang's sleeping form. 

It was funny how he had become a part of San and Mingi's lives again. Their relationship wasn't really of the romantic kind, but San couldn't deny that he cherished the man who was currently snoring lightly on his couch. He also couldn't deny that he enjoyed the occasional sex they had. They just never really talked about any labels, which was probably for the better. 

Since there was nothing for San to do, he decided to take his mind off things by doing some cleaning. He started with the kitchen, which was already spotless since they had a cleaning lady come by twice a week to take care of the house. San guessed that was an advantage of having money, but in situations like these it wasn't really useful, he thought. Scrubbing clean surfaces wasn't exactly satisfying, but it was a distraction nonetheless and the mechanic movements of his hands took his mind off things for a while. 

His little peace ended when the front door opened and Mingi came in, closing the door harshly and locking it noisily. San dropped the sponge he had been holding and slipped out of the cleaning gloves immediately in order to meet Mingi at the door. 

When he lay eyes on his lover, he instantly noticed that he had been drinking. By how difficult the simple task of removing his shoes seemed, San guessed that he had drunk heavily. 

"Mingi," he said, approachinig the other apprehensively. 

"What?" the man in question grumbled in response. San realized that there was no use in trying to speak to him.

Sighing and running a hand that still smelled like his latex gloves over his face, San replied, "Let's get you to bed, alright?"

Mingi grunted, either because he was too out of it to give a coherent verbal reply, or because he didn't deem San's rhetorical question worthy of one. Either way, San went to steady Mingi as he walked up the stairs to their bedroom, holding him around his waist. Only once they were halfway up the stairs did Mingi seem to register what San was doing, and he stated, "I can walk on my own."

"Mingi," San said calmly, holding back another sigh, "You're really drunk."

He didn't want to listen, though, and struggled against San's grip. "Leave me alone," he growled through grit teeth and elbowed San in his side. Jesus Christ, San thought as he stumbled into the banister, almost slipping off the stairs, which is why he held onto the banister tightly, touching his aching ribs once he had regained his footing. Mingi didn't seem to notice or mind and continued his trek. 

San knew arguing against Mingi when he was in that state of mind wouldn't do him any good, so he just watched until he was sure that he at least had made it up the stairs safely. Figuring that he didn't want to sleep beside Mingi during that particular night, and that using the guest room in his own house seemed pathetic, he went to the living room again, glad that the momentary pain in his side was almost gone now. 

He hoped the area wouldn't bruise. San was no stranger to injuries and bruises, but those were usually acquired in fights, so he wore them like medals of honour. Then there were the bruises from sexual activities. Again, medals of honour. But he didn't want to be bruised by being shoved around like something useless. 

When he was in the living room again, he turned off the TV completely, leaving the room dark for the most part. It was only slightly illuminated by the streetlights shining into the window. Once his eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, it was easy to find the outline of Yeosang's body on the couch. Carefully, he slid into the makeshift bed behind Yeosang. One of the advantages of being ridiculously skinny. 

"San?" the other croaked in the dark when San wrapped an arm around his middle. 

"Yes," San assured him. "Just go back to sleep." He then proceeded to press a kiss to the top of Yeosang's head and listened as his breathing evened out again. San also attempted to get some sleep, but falling into the world of blissful nothing proved to be difficult when countless questions were plaguing him. 

*

Yeosang remembered Yunho's smile like one remembers the warm summer sun during cold winter months. Distantly and with a deep yearning tugging at his heart. The memory was like a warm blanket settling over him to protect him from the cold. Soft and safe and familiar. It made Yeosang nostalgic. 

He missed waking up to a sleepy, sluggish Yunho who walked around in zombie mode until he had chugged at least two cups of black coffee, adorable morning blush on his face and his hair sticking up messily. He missed seeing Yunho in his neatly pressed suits, hair slicked back, ready to go to work. He missed falling asleep with big arms wrapped around him. He missed their banter and all the fun moments they had experienced together. He also missed the tenderness between them, Yunho's lips on his, sweet and passionate, every touch setting off sparks beneath Yeosang's skin. 

It had been picture perfect. The kind of perfect little kids dreamed about. They had lived in an apartment that was ridiculously big for two people and that they could only afford because Yunho was the head of an upcoming company that focused on renewable energy sources. Yeosang contributed with the money he made as an accountant as best as he could, but most of their rent was payed with Yunho's money. And that was okay, really. They were happy and in love and Yunho never wanted anything more than Yeosang could give. 

It had been a good life, really. 

Yeosang was currently sitting on the edge of his bathtub, fully dressed in another one of his expensive suits. He had just finished styling his hair after putting on some subtle makeup. There was still some time before he had to head out, so he allowed himself to open his drawer with the big towels, digging through them until he found the velvety box he kept in there. 

He opened it and carefully took its contents out. There was only one item inside: A golden ring. It was a simple band, nothing crazy. It was a symbol of his and Yunho's undying love and devotion. What a tragedy, Yeosang thought as he slid the cool band onto his ring finger. It sat there perfectly. It felt good to wear it again, familiar like the embrace of an old friend. 

Yeosang looked at his hand which was starting to tremble, just like his bottom lip. He couldn't cry now, that's why he pulled the ring off quickly and hastily put it back into the box, hiding it beneath the towels once again and slamming the drawer shut. He looked up to the white ceiling before any of his tears had the chance to spill over and ruin his makeup. 

He sat there until he was sure he wouldn't cry, taking deep breaths to calm himself. Then he got up and looked himself in the mirror. He looked good, put together. Add a little smile and everything would be okay again. Nobody would notice anything — he knew that for a fact because he had put on this façade more times than he could possibly count. 

It had been picture perfect, a good life. Until it hadn't.

*

It was far past working hours and Mingi was still holed up in his office, hadn't come out of it in ages. San was starting to get worried and impatient. He had already sent all their hardworking staff, who otherwise would have stayed until their boss left because their culture required it, home and now he was pacing in his office, computer long turned off and forgotten. 

He was worried about Mingi, not just because he was working way later than usually. He had been acting weird lately, ignoring San and also Yeosang, disappearing to secret places and coming home late, sometimes under the influence of alcohol, which made his presence... difficult.

Anyway, thinking about that wouldn't get San anywhere in this situation. Sighing, he walked towards the door of his office and stepped into the dimly lit hallway, making his way to Mingi's office with quick and determined strides. Out of habit, he knocked, but he allowed himself to enter despite not receiving an answer.

Mingi was staring at something on his computer, not even averting his gaze as he asked, "What do you want?" His voice came out muffled because he had his hand in front of his mouth — his typical thinking position.

San ignored the question and went over to Mingi's office chair to stand behind his lover, putting his hands on his shoulders and squeezing lightly, starting to massage the tight muscle. Mingi automatically leaned back into San's touch, so San started kneading Mingi's shoulders a little bit harder, running his thumbs up his neck occasionally to rub circles into the skin.

Mingi groaned and said, "This is good." 

"Of course it is," San retaliated. "I know what you like." 

At that, Mingi leaned back further, head rolling back until he could see San. Taking advantage of their positions, San leaned down and pressed his lips to Mingi's in an upside down kiss. The angle was awkward, but he ignored it in favour of enjoying the way Mingi licked into his mouth sloppily. The dirty kiss left San breathless and he went to pull away in order to catch his breath, but suddenly Mingi's hands were on the back of his neck, holding him in place. San moaned into Mingi's mouth at the feeling of being forced to stay in that position. 

San was aware that Mingi was using his knowledge on what San liked to turn him on and San couldn't deny that he was rather successful. However, San didn't mind that Mingi was playing dirty and attempting to distract San just so that they wouldn't have to speak about what was really going on. This was a language he was far more comfortable speaking and San knew that. He also knew that verbal communication was easier afterwards.

When Mingi finally freed San from his hold, probably because the awkward angle was starting to hurt his neck, both of their lips were slick with spit. San could feel the wet skin above his top lip dry. 

Mingi turned around in his chair, facing San and eyeing him from top to bottom, taking his time checking him out. His heavy gaze made San feel hot all over. "Undress," Mingi simply ordered, feigning disinterest by turning back around to safe the file he had been working on and turning his computer off. Meanwhile, San stepped out of his dress shoes, unbuttoned his shirt and carelessly let it drop to the floor behind him before he also rid himself of pants, pulling them off, his underwear following shortly after. 

He went over to where Mingi was seated, standing in the space between the desk and Mingi, whose eyes raked over his body once again. Mingi stood, letting his office chair roll away so that they had more space. He pulled San close until they were pressed together in a way that had San's blood boiling. Like this, completely naked in the hold of an entirely dressed man, he felt exposed. No matter how many times they had done this, no matter the amount of incredibly exposing positions Mingi had seen San in... there was something about being bared in front of someone who looked so put together that always made San feel hot and small. 

"What would you say," Mingi whispered in San's ear as his hands travelled across San's back, "If I told you that I want to bend you over my desk and take you right here?" 

San did his best to hold back a moan that threatened to escape when Mingi squeezed his ass cheek, his hand big enough to engulf the flesh. "I'd ask you what you are waiting for," San replied, attempting to sound fierce and seductive, but noticed that he already sounded affected. 

"What a good boy." San almost purred due to the compliment, but soon his lips were preoccupied with the heated kiss Mingi initiated. There was no slow or sweet, he slid his tongue between San's lips without any hesitation. San whined into Mingi's mouth when he ran his tongue over San's palate, creating a ticklish sensation.

Suddenly, Mingi pulled away from the kiss and turned San around, pressing his upper body down to make him bend over the desk. The unexpected manhandling made San's hard cock ache with need and not even the cool sensation of the thick wood under his chest did anything to smother the fire burning beneath his skin.

"Here's what we're going to do," Mingi declared, keeping San in place by simply resting the tip of his pointer finger on his spine. "You'll finger yourself open for me while you suck me off and then I'll fuck you as long as I please." The hand on San's spine wandered up and into his hair, gripping a handful tightly. "That sound good?"

That sounded like heaven on earth to San. When the grip on his hair tightened the slightest bit, he moaned and nodded as best as he could with Mingi's hand restraining his movement. That's when Mingi leaned down to growl into San's ear, "Use your words when you answer me."

"Yes, oh God, _please_ ," San was aware of how pitiful he sounded, but he couldn't care less at that moment. 

Mingi leaned closer until San could feel his breath hitting the shell of his ear. He whispered, "You better hope that God isn't watching right now." Then, Mingi placed a sharp slap on San's backside, which made him release another moan. "Otherwise He'd witness what a pathetic bitch you are." 

"Mingi," San whined desperately, wanting him to do something, _anything_.

"What's your colour?" the man above San asked abruptly, sounding slightly worried. 

San opened his eyes that had apparently closed some time between Mingi slapping his ass and degrading him. He attempted to turn his head a little bit further in order to look at Mingi. He said, "Green."

Another hit, this time on the other side of San's butt. "Then address me accordingly," Mingi said through grit teeth, seamlessly slipping back into his role. 

"Yes, Sir," San choked out and bit his lip, excited for what was to come next. Mingi disappeared from behind him for a while, rummaging through the bottom drawer of his desk. Just when San began wondering what the hell he was looking for in there, Mingi precured the mystery object, pressing a bottle into San's hand. He looked at the label. Peach scented lube. Since when did Mingi keep such a thing in his office?

All possible subsequent questions disappeared from San's mind when Mingi stepped around the table, opening the button of his pants and pulling the zipper down. "What are you waiting for? A handwritten invitation?" Mingi mocked while he took his dick out of his pants without actually pushing them down. Fuck.

Quickly, San covered his fingers with the sweet lube before setting the bottle aside. Then, he pushed himself up until he was facing Mingi's half-hard cock, resting his weight on his free arm while he reached behind himself with the other. This was going to be difficult, but San wasn't one to back down from a challenge and he was stronger than he looked. 

San parted his lips, looking up at Mingi with innocent eyes as he waited for him to feed him his dick. Understanding what San wanted Mingi to do, he moved forward, pushing the head of his cock between San's lips. San opened up, well-behaved. He enjoyed the way Mingi fully hardened in his mouth, relishing the heavy weight dragging over his tongue. 

When San pushed a finger into himself, he moaned around Mingi's erection, which seemed to motivate Mingi to move his hips with more force, sliding into San's mouth more enthusiastically. The angle was awkward, but San still inserted a second finger into his ass, spreading them apart to stretch himself more efficiently. It was messy and his wrist began aching too soon, but he couldn't deny that he enjoyed the way Mingi was using his mouth right now. 

San almost gagged on every other thrust, but that's how he liked it. He wanted Mingi to use him as he pleased, so it was only natural that he whined at the loss when Mingi pulled his dick out, a thick string of spit connecting the head to San's mouth. When Mingi stepped aside the line broke, saliva landing wetly on San's chin. It made him feel kind of dirty, but he made no effort to wipe his mouth.

"Oh my," Mingi said once he was standing behind San and witnessing his weak attempt at opening himself up. "It's almost comical how useless you become with a dick in your mouth," Mingi mocked him cruelly. 

"Please," San gasped, mind foggy from Mingi's words. These were the moments he lived for.

"What do you want?" Mingi wanted to know. 

San whimpered and attempted to push his fingers into himself deeper, his forearm close to cramping at this point. "Please fuck me."

"Like this?" Mingi asked and San didn't have to see him to know that he was shaking his head in disappointment. Next thing he knew Mingi's hand was removing his own, placing it to the side. He did not comment when San moved to rest his head on his arms, using them as a pillow while he gripped the edge of the desk with his fingers. 

Mingi took the lube and pushed two of his own fingers into San, who sighed blissfully at the feeling. "You want to get fucked so bad, but can't even prepare yourself thoroughly enough? You can't even complete such a simple task for me? You're nothing but a greedy whore, San." Mingi commented casually. San had to bite back the urge to moan loudly at Mingi's words. Even the way he had said his name sounded like an insult and San was so painfully turned on by it. 

Stammering, San murmured, "S-sorry." It was a surprise Mingi could hear him at all considering that San was hiding his face in his arms.

Ignoring the apology, Mingi spanked San's ass again, but the blow was much weaker this time because his dominant hand was currently preoccupied. San was surprised when Mingi scissored his fingers apart. He usually didn't do that, except — San almost yelled when Mingi's tongue came in contact with his rim. When he started eating San out like his life depended on it, though, San couldn't help the long, drawn out noise of pleasure he made. There was something deeply satisfying about the way Mingi licked into him. San wondered how he deserved this and by the time Mingi was working San open with three fingers and his tongue he was seeing stars. 

After a while, Mingi turned his head to the side and lightly bit into San's ass. He was satisfied with how easily his fingers disappeared into San, by how relaxed and loose he was becoming. When he eventually pulled his fingers out, San almost whined at the loss before he remembered that something much better was about to come. 

San could feel Mingi tap his left leg. "Put it up, it'll be more comfortable." he instructed. Immediately, San obeyed and thought that it made sense. He didn't want his dick to be trapped uncomfortably and doing it this way offered more space.

That's how Mingi ended up pushing inside of San, bent over his desk, one knee resting on the wood. San closed his eyes again to enjoy the slow yet powerful rhythm Mingi started with. Mingi still hadn't bothered pulling his pants down, so San could feel the material grazing his skin every time Mingi pushed forward. When Mingi began thrusting into him with more force, San's little sighs of pleasure turned into high-pitched whining and moaning. A hand found its way into San's hair and forced his head to the side so that the sounds he made resounded freely in the office instead of being muffled by his skin. 

"You're awfully loud for someone who's getting fucked in an office," Mingi commented off-handedly, sounding strained and deliciously affected himself. San realized that despite telling everyone to go home, he couldn't be sure that nobody had decided to stay behind to finish more work.

The corners of San's mouth lifted and he managed to tease, "Well, do something about it." That earned him a sharp smack to the ass, but it was worth it. Then, Mingi's fingers were prodding San's lips and San immediately opened up, hungry for anything Mingi wanted to give him. He shoved two fingers into San's mouth, pressing down on his tongue. 

San took his chance and began sucking on the digits, hollowing his cheeks and running his tongue over them languidly. He was putting on a show for Mingi and if the way the hand resting on his hip tightened until he could feel Mingi's short fingernails digging into the skin was anything to go by, he was doing a pretty good job. 

"Ah, that's what you're best at, taking it from both sides like a filthy little slut. If Yeosang was here he could fuck your awfully loud mouth, maybe that would shut you the fuck up." San moaned in agreement, liking the thought of being used by both men at the same time. There hadn't been a repeat of their threesome, but San hoped that the opportunity would present itself again at some point during their ménage à trois. 

Despite Mingi reprimanding him for being loud, he couldn't stop himself from making those noises. Mingi was fucking into him in a way that had him on edge; he felt as though his nerves were on fire.

Mingi must have noticed the desperation San was feeling, because he grunted, "Come if you need to." His tone of voice was the same one would use to say _you're dismissed_. That's all it took for San to let go, coming onto the dark wood of Mingi's desk. 

Now that Mingi was chasing his own release, his movements became even rougher. The fingers disappeared from San's mouth in favour of digging into his other hip. Mingi's cock was still dragging over San's prostate and the overstimulation was becoming painful, but San wouldn't complain. He actually thought this was the best part and Mingi was aware of that, which is why he kept going despite the way San was trembling beneath him and tearing up from the intense sensations. 

San didn't just enjoy those moments because of he painful pleasure, he also loved them because Mingi threw the control he had on himself over board, allowing obscene sounds to fall from his lips until he spilled into San. When he finally pulled out, San's face was splotchy and tear-stained. Mingi helped him get up from his position, holding him close because he didn't trust San's legs to be steady. Then, Mingi sat down in his chair with San in his lap, cuddling him and petting his hair, telling him how good he was until San appeared to regain full control of himself.

Hiding his face in Mingi's neck and placing some kisses there while Mingi ran his hands over San's back in a soothing manner, San finally had the confidence to ask, "What's wrong?" 

Mingi's hands momentarily stopped before stroking San's back again, a little bit slower. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," San sighed, leaning into Mingi's soothing touch. He had finally stopped shaking and he had become aware of the fact that he was most likely leaking sperm and lube onto Mingi's slacks, but apparently Mingi didn't care, so San also ignored the sticky mess between his legs for the time being. 

Mingi sighed too, more exasperated than San. "Someone is retaining our dope. It's going to get bad for business, soon." 

"Who's retaining it? One of our own or the police?" San asked, turning serious, post-coitus pleasure suddenly forgotten. 

"Police." Mingi's face looked grim as he basically spat the word. 

"So we have a mole," San concluded. His heart was beating quickly out of anger. Who in their circle could be working for the police? They hadn't recuited new gang members in forever, so it must be someone they trusted. San had no idea who it could be. The thought made him feel sick.

"I've been trying to find out who it is." Mingi confessed. 

San inhaled deeply and thought everything through. "So that's where you've been. You're drinking with them in hopes of someone slipping or ratting someone else out?" San asked incredulously.

Mingi bit his lower lip. "I didn't mean to worry you." 

Without saying a word, San removed himself from Mingi's hold, getting up to pull a tissue out of the box standing beside Mingi's computer. He wiped the liquid between his legs away, cleaning the desk with another tissue before his come could fully dry. Then, he went over to the heap of clothes on the floor, pulling them on in silence while he tried his best to ignore the way Mingi was watching him. 

"I'm sorry, San." 

San continued buttoning his shirt up, his back to Mingi. "I'm your right-hand man, Mingi. Don't you think I should know these things? And not just that... We're together. You can talk to me about things like that. Why did you keep this to yourself?"

Finally, he turned around to face Mingi, who was shaking his head cluelessly. "You're right." Mingi looked up and repeated, "I'm sorry." After a moment of consideration, he added, "Not just for keeping this to myself."

San tensed at Mingi's words. "I didn't mean to shove you that hard the other day," Mingi continued when San stayed quiet. 

"I didn't think you'd remember. It doesn't matter, anyway. I know you didn't mean it like that." San murmured. He didn't want to think about these things or what they meant. It was late and he was starting to get tired, especially after the leisure activity Mingi and him had gotten up to. 

Mingi looked like he wanted to say something else, but he simply got up and closed the distance between him and San without saying a word, kissing him on his mouth, unhurried and full of affection. San reciprocated easily. 

When they pulled apart, San muttered, "Come on, let's go home. You look tired and we could both use a shower."

*

The first time Yeosang had sex for money was during his college days.

He didn't necessarily have a good reason for it. There was no excuse or justification for what he did, not that he needed one. It's not like he was in dire need of money or sold sex as some grotesque way to take control of his body or his life. There was no trauma he tried to get over when he started — he was just young and had an appetite for a taste of sin. Countless women and men alike were ready to throw themselves at the feet of a pretty thing like him, so giving in to the temptation and accepting one of the numerous indecent offers he got was all too easy. 

Once he had started, he didn't want to stop. There was something about having sex with complete strangers. It was exciting, the danger and the vulnerability. Some of his clients didn't just want sex, though. They wanted to take him out, too. To fancy parties or in private, and Yeosang certainly didn't complain about being payed for going on dates. 

Of course, the money wasn't bad either. Yeosang was a university student, after all — there was no necessity for it because his parents did what they could to fund his studies, but he could always use the extra money. It was nice, not having to worry too much about his expenses.

Getting a real job, even if it was part time, was nearly impossible considering Yeosang's schedule at uni and the fact that he needed his free time to finish all of his assignments and to study for exams, and most employers didn't really offer flexible working hours. Doing this was perfect, he could just take a couple hours out of any day he was free on for an appointment.

But then he fell in love. 

When Yeosang started dating Yunho, he obviously stopped the little business he had going on. The way they got to know each other wasn't really anything out of the ordinary: they met at university, during a tedious statistics class. Sitting next to each other, they quickly became friends and started spending time with each other outside of their shared class as well. They would often study or stress eat together. 

Yeosang found himself drawn to the boy, his kindness and lovely smile attracted him. It was fun to spend time with him — Yeosang liked that Yunho was full of mirth and had a great sense of humour. He didn't have to think about it when Yunho shyly asked Yeosang out, his cheeks red and his eyes bright and hopeful. He agreed and shortly after, they officially became a couple, even though their friends had already been teasing them about each other before that.

Since then he only had eyes for Yunho and only wanted to be with him in the future. Yeosang had never really been someone who believed in finding his one true love or to be overly romantic, but that changed quickly. Yunho had turned his world upside down and Yeosang was head over heels for him. 

A few years after their graduation, when Yunho's company had been established and was starting to do well, something even better happened. 

They were standing at the edge of a koi pond in their favourite little park close to their apartment. It was one of their favourite spots. Since the park was rather small there weren't really many people who frequented it, so it was never crowded. It was nice. The sun was shining and the colours of nature were vibrant and full of life. 

However, Yeosang wasn't really looking at any of the trees or flowers, even though it was the end of April and the cherry trees were blossoming beautifully. The small petals were already starting to rain onto the ground in slow motion. But Yeosang much preferred staring at the koi swimming around in the pond. They were white, orange and black and glistened beautifully when they came close enough to the surface to be hit by the sunlight. Watching them come up to the surface and open their mouths, which kind of looked like little bubbles of air appeared on the water, was fascinating. Yeosang liked watching their little dance in the water. 

When he realized that Yunho had been silent for quite a while next to him, he looked up to find his boyfriend watching him, his eyes as gentle as the little smile on his face. The loving gaze still managed to make Yeosang's heart skip a beat. He couldn't help but give Yunho a toothy grin in return. "What?" he asked good-naturedly. 

"Yeosang, you... you're wonderful. You make every day of my life better, more special. The whole world could fall apart and I wouldn't mind because I know I'd get through it with you by my side. I feel complete with you and I want to be with you until the day I die, and even then I'd want to be with you in the afterlife if there is one." Yunho's expression was genuine and Yeosang swore he was going to pass out at this rate because he was somehow forgetting how to breathe. 

Yunho reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled a little box out. Next thing Yeosang knew Yunho was kneeling in front of him, offering him a shiny ring and a soft, "Will you marry me?"

There was no way Yeosang could ever find the words to describe what he felt in that moment. The only facts he was certain of were that he was overwhelmed and speechless and he could swear his heart stopped beating for a solid five seconds. Despite the surprise, Yeosang knew exactly what his answer would be, so he forced a single word out of his mouth. "Yes." 

Yunho got up, a big smile on his face and tears in his eyes when he cupped Yeosang's cheeks. He wiped his thumbs beneath his eyes and that was the moment Yeosang realized he was also crying. He felt an ineffable amount of love for Yunho in general, but it seemed especially overwhelming in that moment, so he leaned in and kissed the man of his dreams in hopes of communicating his feelings. And Yunho — Yunho was right there with him, hugging him tightly and kissing him back just as emotionally. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind Yeosang was aware that they'd have to go abroad and go somewhere to the West to actually get married, and that they consequently would most likely get married without any of their friends or family present, but none of that mattered at that moment. For now it was enough to be in Yunho's arms, cherry blossoms tumbling down gently and time stopping around them like they were entrapped in a snow globe.

*

"Jesus Christ, I didn't expect it to be this cold out here," San said and sighed dramatically. He regretted only putting on a hoodie when he knew they were going to the seaside. It was windy and cool here, especially at night.

Mingi simply raised an eyebrow. "Is that truly your biggest concern right now?" 

"I guess not," San replied after a moment of consideration and lightly bit his lip in order to stop it from trembling due to the cold. 

They had driven all the way out to the port to pick up their shipment themselves. Usually, that would be someone else's task. They'd normally send someone in a lower position out here, but now that they didn't know who to trust with their business anymore, they had resorted to picking up the coke from their supplier themselves. 

Mingi and San still had no idea who was the person giving away sensible information to the police. So far, their getting people drunk and waiting for someone to slip up method hadn't shown results and if it continued like that they'd have to resort to... less civilized ways of receiving information. 

"Do you think..." Mingi started speaking, but fell quiet again. 

"What do I think?" San asked, curious about what Mingi was going to tell him. Did he have a new suspicion? When Mingi stayed silent, San begged, "Come on, you can't start saying something about this and then leave me hanging. I thought we've been through this."

Sighing, Mingi relented, "Okay, you're right. I'll tell you. If it's none of our own... maybe it's someone new in our lives. Someone we trust blindly and who we've been spending a lot of time with."

San gave Mingi an incredulous look. "Do you mean to say that you think Yeosang is the mole?" 

Shrugging, Mingi replied, "It's not like we know a lot about him. You can't deny that the possibility is there."

"But," San said, confused at the mere thought of Yeosang having any sort of relation to the police, "He doesn't know what we do. Well, he knows what we do, but you know how I mean this. There's no way he knows about any of the illegal stuff."

"Okay, but let's be real for a second. We seriously don't know a lot about him. All we know is what he works as and random stuff you can find out about anyone if you're a skilled small talker."

"That doesn't mean or prove that he knows anything more about us than we know about him, though." San said after a moment of silence. "Maybe he's just a private person. Maybe he has reasons for it. Like us."

Pursing his lips, Mingi replied, "Like us? You think he might be involved in anything illegal?"

"You mean besides prostitution?" San asked incredulously. The thought of Yeosang doing anything criminal besides that just seemed downright ridiculous to him. He thought of the man as rather innocent despite the fact that he sold sex to make a living — he couldn't imagine Yeosang doing anything that brought harm upon others. "I'm just saying... That's another reason that speaks against him being the mole. I don't think he'd like to get involved with the police, either."

Even though prostitution was illegal in Korea, it wasn't typically payed a lot of attention to. It seemingly wasn't very high up on the list of priorities, which made sense in San's opinion. There were worse criminals out there. However, he also didn't believe there was any police officer out there who wouldn't lock up a prostitute if they basically served themselves on a silver platter. 

Sighing, Mingi ran a hand across his face. "You're right. Maybe I'm just getting paranoid because of this whole issue."

San squeezed Mingi's shoulder reassuringly, but quickly dropped his hand when their man came around the corner of the building they had agreed on meeting in front of. The whole thing was over as fast as it had started. They got a package of cocaine and Mingi slid it inside of his jacket, nodding to the man who had brought them the drugs in lieu of exchanging words. Then, they all went their seperate ways, Mingi and San walking back to Mingi's fancy black car and the other man disappearing around the same corner he had come from.

Once they were back inside the car, San put his hand on Mingi's as he was about to turn the key in the ignition. The touch stopped Mingi and he looked at San. Their features were mostly hidden by the dark, but the faint streetlights illuminated the sharp edges of their faces. 

"We'll find out who it is. Don't worry about it too much, we've faced worse problems in the past, remember?" When Mingi nodded, San continued, "When we get home we'll go to sleep and tomorrow everything will be a little bit better again, alright?" 

Again, Mingi nodded and San finally removed his hand so that Mingi could start the car. San hoped that his words would turn out to be true.

*

San stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, drying himself off with the soft fabric. When he deemed himself dry enough, he pulled on his underwear and a pair of sweatpants, towelling his hair dry as he stepped out of the bathroom and walked towards the bedroom. 

Mingi was out for the evening and San had invited Yeosang to come over. He had said it was to see if Yeosang was hiding anything, but the bigger reason was that he didn't feel like being alone. San was bad at being alone and Mingi had been busy recently. Obviously, San could have also joined him, but he feared it would be weird because he usually got extremely clingy when he was drunk and he found their relationship was better kept a secret from the rest of the gang lest someone accuse Mingi of favouritism. 

When San pushed the door to the bedroom open, he was surprised to find Yeosang lying on the bed with a newspaper hiding his face. He looked very comfortable in Mingi and San's shared bed. It was as if he actually belonged there. The domestic sight made something inside of San clench. Shaking the feeling off, San cackled and remarked, "I didn't know you're interested in reading Le Monde diplomatique."

Lowering the newspaper, Yeosang cryptically replied, "I'm a man of many interests." Then, he put it back onto Mingi's bedside table, where he had presumably found it in the first place. San also liked keeping up with what was happening in the world, but he didn't like taking that kind of political business to bed. 

"Is that so," San asked rhethorically while he draped himself across Yeosang's side, carelessly letting the towel fall to the floor. 

Humming, Yeosang pulled San closer and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "How was work?" he asked conversationally. The domesticity was going to be the end of San.

San chased Yeosang's lips and sealed their mouths together again. He went for a deeper kiss that was unlike the sweet peck Yeosang had given him. Yeosang made a surprised noise in the back of his throat, but relaxed into the sudden display of affection easily enough, reciprocating the kiss and pulling San more on top of him. 

"How did I deserve that?" Yeosang asked with a smile on his face when San had pulled away and started staring at him with something akin to wonder or awe in his eyes. 

It took San a while to get out of his daze, but when he did his focus seemed to be on Yeosang again rather than somewhere far away and he blinked at the man looking up at him with big doe eyes. "You're just... you." San replied like that somehow explained everything. 

After a moment of consideration, Yeosang pulled San in for another kiss that was just as passionate as the one San had initiated, but no less sweet than his first kiss. They continued kissing like that, slow and languid, just enjoying being close and exploring each other. Yeosang's hands had also started exploring, sliding across San's naked back and hugging him close. 

San pulled away again, letting both of them catch their breaths. "You deserve everything, Yeosang. What do you want? Whatever it is, I'll give it to you."

A pained expression crossed Yeosang's features, and for a moment, San thought he was going to cry. The thought disappeared as soon as it had formed when Yeosang admitted, "I want you to make love to me." Despite his expression going back to normal, San thought there was still something hurt and desperate in Yeosang's eyes. Could it be that he was as hungry for love as San?

"I want you to take your time with me. Be gentle and slow," Yeosang explained. "I want you to make me forget everything that isn't you and me."

San suddenly found it hard to breathe. There was no way he could deny Yeosang what he was asking for, especially not when he had disclosed his wish like it was a dirty secret he was ashamed of. He wondered why. Did Yeosang think he wasn't worthy of being treated well? Or did he perhaps assume that San wouldn't be up for it considering that he usually got off on feeling dirty and used and being rough?

"Of course," San whispered and kissed Yeosang again, cupping his cheeks and hoping to communicate his feelings for the other man with the gesture. When Yeosang hummed in satisfaction, San slid his hand beneath Yeosang's shirt, feeling up his chest appreciatively and toying with a nipple. 

Then, San trailed kisses from the corner of Yeosang's mouth to his jaw, continuing his journey on the man's neck where he nipped teasingly, just barely grazing his teeth across the skin. When he reached the collar of Yeosang's shirt, he sat up and pushed the fabric up to Yeosang's armpits, enjoying the way Yeosang was watching San's every move as he leaned down again to continue drawing a path on Yeosang's body with his lips and his tongue. When San reached Yeosang's belly button, the muscle beneath his skin tensed and he got goose bumps. Despite the area obviously being ticklish, San couldn't help but press a final kiss just above Yeosang's belly button. When his breath met Yeosang's skin, San watched him shiver in fascination.

San looked at Yeosang's dark eyes when his fingers tugged at the hem of Yeosang's jeans. "Can I?" he asked. 

"Go ahead," Yeosang replied with a breathy voice. 

San peeled Yeosang out of his clothes until he was completely bare, and when he opened him up, San continued his mission of covering every millimetre of Yeosang's skin that was within his reach with kisses. Once San was four fingers in and satisfied with the lack of resistance he was met with, he asked Yeosang if he was ready. When Yeosang affirmed, San sank to his body, holding him tight. 

Taking Yeosang slowly was nothing San could have possibly prepared for. Watching Yeosang steadily lose himself to the pleasure he was feeling was exhilarating. He seemed deeply relaxed, his eyes closing every once in a while, his mouth going slack and his eyebrows furrowing when San moved his hips just right. He also made uncontrollable sounds that ranged from low and husky to squeaky and whiny. It was truly an experience, seeing Yeosang come undone like that. It was as if he had decided to throw all control and attempts to be good and desirable for someone else over board and just was himself. San decided he liked Yeosang even better like this and felt a pang of regret because he hadn't thought to worship Yeosang like this before.

It felt like they were intimate for hours, but neither of them got tired of it. Eventually, though, they were done and exhausted, staying huddled together for warmth and to exchange lazy kisses and affections until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

*

Yeosang had always loved being with Yunho. He was a big softie, especially when it came to Yeosang, treating him well even when they were trying something spicy. Nothing and no one could compare to the way Yunho loved Yeosang. It was as if he knew him inside out and made use of his knowledge to set every single nerve in Yeosang's body ablaze. 

Yunho knew about Yeosang's unordinary past, but that didn't change his feelings or diminish the amount of devotion and tenderness he treated him with. Yeosang was sure that Yunho would be his first big love and also the last, and that they would love each other until they were old and wrinkly. Back then, the thought was actually quite amusing and Yeosang couldn't help but smile. 

Sometimes Yeosang remembered big hands holding him like he was some priceless otherwordly treasure. He especially liked remembering those hands after their wedding. The golden band around Yunho's ring finger was shiny and beautiful and new, just like the one Yeosang was wearing. 

One night, when they were lying next to each other, ready to go to sleep, Yunho turned to Yeosang with a worried sigh. 

"Yeosang," he said, sounding nervous and not at all like he was even thinking about going to sleep. 

Yeosang also turned onto his side, facing his husband who looked incredibly distressed. What had happened? "What's wrong?" he asked, reaching out to find Yunho's hand beneath the blanket, linking their fingers together. 

Yunho sighed and closed his eyes as if he was in pain. Now Yeosang was sure what was about to come out of his mouth would be unpleasant. He ran his thumb across the back of Yunho's hand reassuringly while he waited for him to speak.

Finally, Yunho opened his eyes. He sounded determined when he said, "There's something I've been keeping from you. Something I should have told you sooner..."

Swallowing nervously, his body automatically mirroring Yunho's tension, Yeosang whispered, "Okay. What is it?" 

Yeosang's heart beat in anticipation when Yunho continued speaking, "Well, you probably remember that you told me about the time where you were involved with some illegal business? Wait, that's a dumb question, of course you remember, you were there—"

His rambling was cut off when Yeosang interrupted him with a small, "Yunho. Breathe. You know everything about me. There's nothing you could tell me that would make me think differently of you."

Yunho sighed again. "I know. I know, sorry. This is just... not easy. You know that I needed a lot of money to start my company, right?"

"Yeah," Yeosang affirmed. He had been there with Yunho through it all. It hadn't been an easy time for either of them, both of them scraping all of their savings together to fund Yunho's dream, going as far as borrowing money from Yunho's parents. 

"Well, our money and what my parents gave me was nowhere near enough. So I started looking for jobs I could make a lot with in a short amount of time. That's how I found this gang... that I started distributing drugs for."

Yeosang took a deep breath. He obviously hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly hadn't been that. He didn't feel judgmental, he was aware that he had no right to. But that didn't change the fact that this was a lot to take in.

When Yunho stayed silent for a while, Yeosang asked, "Is that everything? Or is there more?" His voice was nothing more than a scared whisper in the dark.

"No, there's... I'm still doing it. I pick up drugs from shady places and people and distribute them to the gang's dealers... but I want to stop. Business is going well, there's no need for me to continue doing that. And it's... it's risky. I don't want to live like that anymore."

When Yeosang finally found his voice again, he asked, "So why did you decide to tell me about this now?"

After a moment of hesitation, Yunho replied, "I don't want either of us to suffer the consequences of my stupid actions in case something goes wrong. I couldn't live with myself if I kept putting myself at risk, especially now that we're married."

Now it was Yeosang's turn to tell himself to breathe. They had been married for half a year already. And he had started his company three years ago. So why had Yunho waited so long to tell him? On the other hand, Yeosang understood where Yunho was coming from. There was no guarantee that Yeosang wouldn't judge him or, in a worst case scenario, leave him and possibly report Yunho to the police. 

Yeosang cuddled closer to his husband to wrap him up in his arms and pet his hair. He didn't want Yunho to think he hated him, just because he couldn't bring himself to say anything at the moment. 

Forcing the speechlessness out of himself, Yeosang asked another question, one that he was scared to ask, "So what are you going to do now?"

"There's nothing much I can do... I'll tell them I'm out."

"Isn't that dangerous, though?" Yeosang's throat closed up when Yunho stayed quiet. "Yunho, please be honest with me."

Clearing his throat, Yunho murmured, "Perhaps. But... I've made a name for myself. There's no way they'd make the CEO of a company that's continuously gaining popularity disappear suddenly."

Yeosang had a feeling that's what Yunho told himself, but it honestly kind of made sense. At least that's what he liked to think. They couldn't make someone with a name disappear in a shady way. There had to be some truth to that. It seemed like Yunho had been thinking about this a lot. 

"I'm sorry," Yeosang whispered into Yunho's hair, cradling his husband's head to his chest carefully. 

"Why are you sorry?" Yunho murmured into Yeosang's shirt, sounding way too small. Yeosang's heart was breaking for him.

He confessed, "Because I couldn't be here for you until now. Because you didn't feel safe enough to tell me. Because you had to keep this for yourself and had nobody to share that burden with."

Yunho was clinging to Yeosang by now, hands fisting the fabric of his shirt, tucking his face beneath Yeosang's chin more firmly. Yeosang started stroking Yunho's back in calming motions, hoping it would help him relax at least a little. Yunho's voice was barely audible when he said, "It's alright. That's my problem, anyway. I have no idea how I could have been stupid enough to actually start doing that. I have so many regrets." 

"Hey, no," Yeosang said, kissing the top of Yunho's head, "What's done is done. And it's not just your problem. You have me, remember? We'll get through this, together." Yeosang tried to sound reassuring, but even he himself thought his attempt at comforting Yunho was rather weak. If he was going to be honest, his mind was racing with sorrowful thoughts and unasked questions that he certainly didn't want to torture Yunho with right now. It was obvious that making this confession to Yeosang had been incredibly hard, so now Yeosang had to focus on soothing the person he had sworn to go through good and bad times with. 

Everything else could wait. Everything else could be taken care of and sorted out. Everything would go well. They would be okay. Those were the things Yeosang told himself, repeating the sentences in his head like a mantra while he alternated between stroking Yunho's back and petting his hair. He didn't stop until Yunho's breathing had evened out and he was certain the man in his arms had fallen asleep. Only then did the mental exhaustion also catch up to Yeosang, and he fell into a restless sleep with haunting dreams.

* 

Lying a loved one to rest was horrifying. The pain excruciating, the tears endless. Yeosang hated himself for letting this happen, for ignoring the risk. Yunho was a well-known, respected man. They wouldn't make him disappear. The thought was laughable and the fact that both Yunho and Yeosang had convinced themselves that this wouldn't end in an ugly way was downright ridiculous. 

After Yunho's death, Yeosang spent a lot of time at the columbarium, staring at the smiling picture of Yunho beside the urn. It was hard to imagine that Yunho was gone forever. His Yunho, big and warm and smiling, was supposed to be just a heap of ashes? Yeosang couldn't wrap his mind around the new reality he found himself in. It was a reality he didn't want. 

When Yunho and him had sworn to love and cherish each other until death do them part, he hadn't imagined that they had to part so soon. There was no chance to say goodbye, not a single warning, just a call from Yunho's mother, who had been informed by the hospital that there was a car accident in which Yunho died, two months after he had stopped working for that notorious gang he had told Yeosang everything about after his initial confession. They had developed a false sense of safety. 

Yunho had been driving when another vehicle had come into the picture, colliding with Yunho's car, forcing him off the road and down a slope. The other driver was nowhere to be found. Hit and run. Yeosang had never heard of gangs using that method to rid themselves of threats, but he guessed Yunho was an exception because not many people who would be missed and mourned somewhat publicly had shady jobs on the side. 

People came and went while Yeosang spent countless hours at the columbarium. He could see them moving from the corners of his eyes, but he never bothered looking at them directly. Time stood still for him while the rest of the world kept moving. It just didn't make any sense. Yeosang felt as if someone had ripped the heart from his chest and left him there to bleed, writhing in pain and clutching his chest, except that he couldn't die. He had to live with this open wound forever.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice that someone was approaching him until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Only then did he come out of the thick fog that had somehow formed around him and he turned to see Yunho's mother standing there. 

Yeosang didn't know why, but when he saw her he started crying again, inconsolable. Perhaps it was the similarity between their faces that started the waterworks again. When she saw the tears spill from his eyes, she pulled him in for a hug, also starting to cry if the quiet sobs Yeosang could make out despite her face being hidden in his shoulder were anything to go by. 

"I — I'm so sorry," Yeosang managed to tell her. 

Yunho's mother pulled back and looked at him through rainy eyes. "What are you sorry for?"

"I just feel like I should have been there... Maybe everything would have turned out differently if—," Yeosang said to the ground, stopping halfway through his sentence. He just couldn't bear looking at her face any longer. And he was tired. God, he was so tired. He didn't even understand what he had been trying to say in the first place. 

"Yeosang, listen to me," she ordered, cupping his cheeks to force him to look at her again. He almost closed his eyes. It just hurt too much, but he managed to hold her shocked stare. "What happened... It can't be undone. We can't turn back time, so it's pointless to go through all the what if scenarios you're making up in your head."

Yeosang started shaking his head. He didn't know why. There was no denying that what happened can't be changed and time couldn't be turned back, but he couldn't bring himself to accept that. Accepting that would make it final and that was a reality Yeosang wasn't ready for. People always said time heals all wounds, but Yeosang couldn't imagine that he'd ever heal from this.

The hands fell from his face, but Yunho's mother continued speaking to Yeosang nonetheless, undeterred and determined to talk sense into him, "You'd also be dead now if you had been in that car with him." She wrapped her arms around Yeosang's shaking form again. "You have to live, Yeosang. You're all I have left of him," she added, voice breaking at the end of her sentence.

He had never thought of it like that. Yeosang hugged her back, holding on tightly to that one person who could understand the unspeakable pain he was going through. They stood there for what felt like hours, until they had rid themselves of all the tears their bodies had to offer.

*

"Nice office," Yeosang offered in lieu of greeting. He hadn't even bothered knocking, so now he was faced with Seonghwa's default annoyed facial expression. Yeosang pretended like he hadn't just invited himself into Seonghwa's office, taking care to close the door behind him before he went to take a seat across from the other man who still hadn't said a word.

"What do you want here?" Seonghwa asked, not exactly kindly.

"That is no way to greet an old friend, now, is it?" Yeosang said, pretending to be offended and pouting. 

After he had taken a deep breath, Seonghwa's tone changed to faux and saccharine when he asked, "What can I help you with?"

"That's more like it," Yeosang retaliated, with a smile just as fake. When Seonghwa looked at him like he was seconds away from breaking every oath he had ever sworn in order to murder Yeosang, he gave in and dropped the act. "I'm here to help you, actually."

Seonghwa lifted an eyebrow. There was an arrogant edge in his voice when he asked, "What might you be able to help me with?" 

"Hmm, let's see. Tiger's corp. ring a bell?" Yeosang asked, just as condescending. 

Seonghwa's entire demeanor changed so quickly it was almost comical. His facial expression transformed from high and mighty and distasteful to obvious curiousity. "What would you know about that?" He was still trying to act nonchalant, but Yeosang was way too good at reading people than to be impressed by his act. He knew he had Seonghwa hook, line and sinker. 

Smiling, Yeosang leaned back in his chair. "You should know it doesn't work like that. You're gonna have to give me something if you want to know what I know."

Seonghwa was angered if the way he was pressing his lips together was anything to go by. "What do you want?" he asked coolly. 

God, how Yeosang hated cops. 

His distaste for them was fuelled by his own experience. After Yunho's death there had been an investigation to find the driver or to find out whether someone had been payed to cause an accident. Business was rough and Yunho had some powerful opponents, but the police officers in charge of that case didn't stop there. They questioned Yeosang like he would pay someone to kill his husband. Like he was after his money. And when he told them what he knew, they had simply laughed at his face. Why would someone like Yunho do anything illegal? Why would two respected men from a well-known company be drug lords? Yeosang still felt sick when he thought back to the interrogation. 

He just wanted justice for Yunho.

However, the gang has drawn attention to itself recently. Some people in the force were getting suspicious and Yeosang knew all about it. Being a high-class hooker had perks, as did knowing that a lot of detectives lived with double-standards and big mouths. You'd be surprised by some of the things Yeosang heard from his clients.

"You can't tell anyone you got this from me." Yeosang said decisively.

Snorting, Seonghwa ran a hand through his jet black hair. "You have some nerve to walk into my office and make demands." Giving Yeosang a stern glance, he added, "I know what kind of man you are."

Yeosang couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Big deal. You do know that means that I also know what kind of man you are, right? I wonder what the wife would say if she knew her beloved husband goes around fucking escort boys while she thinks he's working overtime because he's just _so_ dedicated to his job."

Now Seonghwa actually looked like he was livid. For a second Yeosang was scared that the vein pulsing on his forehead might pop, but he decided he didn't actually care. This wasn't about private matters anyway. Yeosang just wanted to get it over with. "So what should I do in your opinion?" Seonghwa wanted to know.

"Just keep my name out of your mouth. Tell them you got this from one of your insiders if anyone asks." Yeosang shrugged and took a USB stick out of the pocket of his leather jacket. He tossed it to Seonghwa, who quickly caught it with one hand before plugging it into the computer. Yeosang was satisfied with the reaction Seonghwa showed. His eyes went round as he curiously checked the photographs on the memory stick. 

"Are those..." he slowly asked when he was done looking through them. He was obviously excited about the pictures considering how breathless and stunned he sounded. 

"Their books," Yeosang supplied helpfully. 

Despite the unmistakeable question marks in Seonghwa's eyes, he asked, "How?"

"Stumbled upon them one day. They're in their study on the top floor," Yeosang explained. He hadn't even been trying to dig up dirt on them when he had found them, he had actually just stumbled upon the proof of their questionable transactions. He had excused himself to the study because he hadn't been able to bear another second in Mingi's and San's company and that had been a good excuse to check out the mini-library they had in there. "I also found a good amount of cocaine in one of their drawers in the bedroom. That could be gone by now, though," Yeosang mused. 

"Do I even want to know what you had to do to find all that out?" Seonghwa asked, still seeming like he was in awe.

"No, you don't," Yeosang replied bluntly. 

When Seonghwa appeared to have gotten his shit back together again, he cleared his throat and explained, "That's just proof for their drug business, though. It doesn't prove that they've killed people. Or that they've killed your husband." 

Yeosang looked at him with a hardened expression. "I know. But you and I both know that their gang has become weaker. They can sense that something is going on and that the trust within the gang is damaged. Offer them a mild punishment in exchange for information on the real shady business and I'm sure they'll eat out of your hand."

Seonghwa was considering his words. "You know, perhaps you know more than I thought. Maybe you'd make a nice witness. I'm sure I could grant you immunity."

Huffing, Yeosang shook his head. "No way. I've never witnessed anything. All I could tell you is that Mingi is nothing more than an asshole who thinks he's invincible and San is a little bitch who'd do anything for some validation."

"I see," Seonghwa replied dryly. Deep down, he probably knew that there was no way he could convince Yeosang to do it and that the knowledge he had was of no true importance for the investigation. "Well, thanks for this," Seongwha added, gesturing to the USB stick, trying to get rid of the awkward silence that was threatening to settle in the room. 

Yeosang nodded and got up. "Thank me by forgetting who gave this to you."

He was out of the door before Seonghwa could give him a reply. Yeosang knew that despite his asshole exterior, Seonghwa wouldn't feed him to the wolves.

*

When Yeosang stepped out of the building, the first thing he did was take a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the sunlight on his skin. A little smile playing on his mouth, he crossed the road. Spotting Wooyoung wasn't hard, all he had to do was look for a head of purple. 

Giving Yeosang a big smile, Wooyoung asked, "Cigarette?"

Yeosang didn't smoke. At least not regularly enough to call himself a smoker. Maybe twice a year, on very rare, special occasions. "How do you always know what I need?" he asked Wooyoung in turn. 

"Best friend telepathy," Wooyoung informed him, offering him the half-smoked cigarette he was already holding between his fingers. 

Yeosang took it, humming in agreement. The bitter smoke filled his lungs as he took a deep drag. If Yeosang was going to be honest, he thought that everything about smoking was disgusting, but the burnt taste and the lightheaded feeling reminded him that he was alive. Still breathing, still moving forward because the world wouldn't stop turning anytime soon.

"So how did it go?" Wooyoung asked curiously once Yeosang had finished cigarette. 

They got into Wooyoung's car and while Wooyoung was looking for his sunglasses, Yeosang replied, "Good enough. They're finally going to get what they deserve."

Wooyoung simply said, "I'm glad." Then, he reached over to open the glove compartment, where he ended up finding his stylish black sunglasses, putting them on immediately. He also pulled out another pair, pink and heart-shaped. They were tacky and Yeosang gave him an appalled look when he realized what Wooyoung wanted from him. "Just do it, trust me," Wooyoung said. Yeosang couldn't see it, but he was one hundred percent certain that Wooyoung had just rolled his eyes at him.

Giving in, Yeosang took the pair of sunglasses from Wooyoung. He deliberately ignored his best friend's wide grin while he put them on. Yeosang shoved the glove compartment shut and when both of them had their seatbelts on, Wooyoung started driving. 

"So, did you actually consider my suggestion to become an actor?" Wooyoung asked after they had been sitting in a comfortable silence for a while.

Yeosang snorted. "There's no way in hell I'd become an actor."

"Funny that that's where you draw the line," Wooyoung remarked sarcastically. "So, what are you gonna do now?" He sounded genuinely curious now.

Actually, Yeosang didn't really have a plan yet. Him and Wooyoung were going to move to the seaside, that, he knew for sure. Both of them had been dreaming of living near the sea for a long time and the time had finally come. Both of them were ready for a fresh start. 

Perhaps Yeosang would look for a job in accounting again. After all, that's what he had studied for and he was good at it. Maybe he'd actually take acting classes. After all he had delivered the ultimate performance to avenge the love of his life. But maybe he'd also try something completely new and become a hairdresser or something like that. Who knew? Life just offered way too many possibilities. It's not like anything could be predicted, anyway.

For now, Yeosang only had one concrete goal. "I'm going to live."

**Author's Note:**

> this fic might be horrible but it's also my baby so please let me know what you think!


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